


Voice of an Angel

by cutelittlekitty



Series: Heavenly Body [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU-modern setting, Anal Sex, Destiel - Freeform, Karaoke, Multi, blowjob, bottom!Castiel, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 11:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14768372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutelittlekitty/pseuds/cutelittlekitty
Summary: "I'm having plenty of fun talking to you.""But, I'd kind of like to hear you sing," Cas confesses."Really?  Why?""I don't know, I'm just curious to know if your singing is as attractive as your body."Dean quirks an eyebrow.  "Are you hitting on me?"Tilting his head to one side, Cas blinks at Dean.  "I don't know, am I?  I hadn't really thought about it like that, I was just stating a fact," he says, looking Dean up and down as though reevaluating his assessment, then nodding as he comes to the same conclusion.  "But you can take it that way if you want," he adds quietly, gaze dropping back to his drink as he blushes again.now with art from the amazingly talentedwinchester-reload!





	Voice of an Angel

"Wow, man, that was brutal," Dean says, taking the empty seat at the bar to the right of the guy in the suit, who would stand out just for the clothing but stands out even more with his tousled dark hair and five o'clock shadow giving him a brooding, mysterious air.

The guy looks up from his drink as though just realizing someone had sat next to him and Dean finds himself staring into the bluest eyes he's ever seen; deep pools he could get lost in. "What was brutal?" the man asks, brows furrowed.

"The way you just shot that guy down," Dean replies with a grin.

"What? Shot who down?" asks Mr. Tall-dark-and-gorgeous, looking around at the lack of people surrounding them.

"That guy who just offered to buy you a drink."

"Oh. I already have a drink."

"Yeah, that's what you said to him, but- Wait, you do know what kind of bar this is, right?" Dean asks, praying he's not a straight guy who wandered in by accident.

"A bar that has karaoke?"

"Yeah, but it's a _gay_ bar."

"Okay, a gay bar that has karaoke," Mr. Blue-eyes says with a shrug.

"You here with friends?" Dean presses, suspecting the guy may have been brought by acquaintances as a joke but taking the fact that he hasn't told Dean to get lost yet as a hopeful sign because, _damn,_ he wants him.

"Yes," the guy replies, looking around the half-full bar, "Charlie and Meg." He points to a corner where a red-headed girl is plastered against another girl with curly dark hair.

"And they ditched you to go suck face with each other?"

The guy shrugs. "They know as long as there's karaoke I'm good. Speaking of which, I'll be back in a few minutes." Getting up, the guy heads for the area where the mic waits.

As Mr. Gorgeous steps up to the microphone, Dean realizes he must have been called up to sing and mentally kicks himself for not having caught the name. And then Aerosmith's 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing' starts up, and as the guy starts singing Dean's jaw drops, eyes widening as he stares. Damn, the guy has the voice of a fucking angel. His speaking voice had been a bit raspy, in a sexy kind of way, but his singing... holy shit, there just aren't words. Smooth and beautiful, and he does this kinda growl thing here and there that just has Dean melting. As the song ends Dean surreptitiously wipes a hand across his mouth to make sure he isn't drooling, eyes following the guy as he comes back to his stool and sits down.

"You have an amazing voice," Dean praises.

"Thank you," the guy mumbles, blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears as he grabs his glass and goes to take a drink.

Before the glass can reach Mr. Angel-voice's mouth Dean covers it with his hand, pushing it firmly back down to the counter. "Not a good idea to leave a drink unattended. Someone coulda roofied it while you were gone."

"Did you?"

"What? No way, man, I ain't into non-con. But someone else coulda; I was watching you, not the drinks," Dean replies, noticing the guy from earlier is back and sitting in the stool on the other side of Mr. Angel-voice, pretending not to be listening in on their conversation.

Following Dean's gaze, the guy frowns at his new neighbor, then down at his drink. He raises his hand timidly, trying to catch the eye of the bartender, who is at the other end of the bar chatting up a couple guys and paying no attention to anything else.

"Hey, Gabe," Dean calls, pushing both half finished drinks toward him, "can you nix these and get us a fresh round?"

"Oh, yeah, sure Dean," the bartender replies, dumping the drinks in the sink and pouring fresh ones into clean glasses without having to ask what their previous drinks had been. Apparently Mr. Angel-voice is just drinking soda, because Gabe fills it from the gun and doesn't add any liquor. As the bartender slides the soda and a beer over, Dean gives him a ten, telling him to keep the change.

"Oh, you don't have to-" the guy starts, not getting the words out before Dean has already paid. "Thanks, um... Dean?"

"Yeah, Dean, sorry, I shoulda introduced myself earlier."

"Cas," the guy mumbles, taking a sip of his fresh soda.

"Cas? That short for something?"

"Yes."

Dean chuckles. "Not much for small talk, are you?"

"I'm... not good with people," Cas blushes, staring at the glass in his hands.

"That's ok," Dean smiles, "with a voice like yours, you ought to be up there singing more rather than sitting here talking. Do you have other songs put in?"

Still blushing, Cas nods. "Three, but I told the dj only when everyone else who wants to has already sung and only if no one else wants to sing those songs."

Having half-listened to the other singers, Dean has a feeling Cas will get more callbacks than anyone else; he's by far and away the best voice here. They listen for a while, Dean making comments, Cas responding in short answers that are curt, but don't seem to be intended as a dismissal. Elbow planted on the bar, Dean rests his head on his hand, fingers buried in his golden-brown hair as his verdant gaze studies the man beside him, trying to figure out how anyone that gorgeous could be sitting alone at a bar on a Friday night. "So your friends-" Dean breaks off as he hears the dj call Cas. "Looks like you're up again. I'll watch the drinks this time, k?"

"Thanks," Cas mumbles as he heads back up to the mic.

This time the song is Deep Purple's 'Smoke on the Water' and it's every bit as good as the last song, maybe even better.

"Wow, that was just... are you in a band?" Dean asks when Cas comes back.

"Oh, no, I couldn't... I like to sing, but it's just a hobby," Cas replies as he goes back to sipping his soda.

"If that's just a hobby, I can't imagine what you do for a living."

"I'm an accountant."

"What? Really?"

"You're not going to say I don't look like an accountant are you? Because I came here straight from work."

"That explains the suit," Dean laughs. "And yeah, you _look_ like an accountant, but with the way you sing, I figured you'd have to do something more... creative."

"Oh, I don't know. Depending on who you work for, accounting can be very creative," Cas replies and he looks serious, but the edge of his mouth quirks up just a little.

Laughing, Dean feels his heart skip a beat at the small half-smile and vows to himself to see a full smile on that beautiful face before the night is through.

"So, Dean, why haven't you sung yet?" Cas asks shyly, blue eyes peeking sideways before dropping back to the soda in front of him.

"Me? Nah, my singing is best kept to showers," Dean jokes. Actually, he's not bad but he'd much rather hear Cas sing more.

"Come on, you can't be afraid of an audience. I mean, I'm awkward as heck and I can do it. You don't seem awkward at all; it should be easy for you. Karaoke is just meant for having fun, it's not like you have to be a virtuoso or anything."

"I'm having plenty of fun talking to you." 

"But, I'd kind of like to hear you sing," Cas confesses.

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know, I'm just curious to know if your singing is as attractive as your body."

Dean quirks an eyebrow. "Are you hitting on me?"

Tilting his head to one side, Cas blinks at Dean. "I don't know, am I? I hadn't really thought about it like that; I was just stating a fact," he says, looking Dean up and down as though reevaluating his assessment, then nodding as he comes to the same conclusion. "But you can take it that way if you want," he adds quietly, gaze dropping back to his drink as he blushes again.

Dean swallows, thinking how very much he wants. Slipping off his barstool, he leans toward Cas. "Watch my drink for me?" he murmurs.

"Sure," Cas replies, a visible tremor going through him at the warm breath on his ear. He places a hand over Dean's beer, eyes never leaving his own glass. A few minutes later he takes his hand back as Dean reclaims his seat.

"Thanks," Dean smiles, taking a sip.

"You sure I didn't roofie that?" Cas asks, corner of his mouth crooked up.

Dean takes a long drink. "Did you?" he grins.

"No," Cas replies, half-smile getting just a bit bigger.

"Not tempted to drug me and have your way with me?"

"I doubt I'd need to, and besides, having my way with you would definitely require you to be alert and active," comes the salacious reply, the quirked lip expanding into a full grin.

Subconsciously, Dean licks his lips as his mind conjures up all sorts of images.

"You put a song in?" Cas asks, pulling Dean from his fantasies.

"What?" Dean asks and Cas nods to the stage where the dj is waiting. "Oh, yeah, you wanted me to sing, right? Keep an eye on both our drinks," he adds as he goes up to the mic amid the opening notes to Survivor's 'Eye of the Tiger'. Knowing there's no point trying to sound as good as Cas he just cuts loose and has fun with it. The small crowd seems to enjoy it, and as he finishes and heads back to the bar, he's rewarded by a full smile on Cas's face, blue eyes crinkling with merriment. "I thought you were supposed to be watching our drinks?" Dean teases.

Blinking, Cas looks at the bar where both drinks sit unattended. "Sorry, I was too distracted watching you. It really looked like you were having fun up there," he blushes.

"Yeah, it was fun," Dean replies, pushing the nearly empty drinks across the bar and calling Gabe over for replacements. "I should do that more often."

"Yes, you should. You have a very nice voice."

"Not as good as yours," Dean grins, paying Gabe for the drinks and handing Cas his before clinking their glasses together. "Cheers."

"Cheers," Cas echoes and takes a drink.

"Hey, Data, ready to get outta here?" 

Dean looks around and sees the speaker is one of the friends Cas had pointed out earlier. "Data?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at Cas.

"Star Trek reference," Cas mumbles.

"Meg, be nice," the redhead says, punching her girlfriend on the shoulder, and not too softly judging by the way Meg rubs the spot, wrinkling her nose and sticking her tongue out at the redhead, Charlie, Dean thinks he remembers Cas saying. "Sorry, Cas, I know there's still another hour of karaoke, but Meg's getting a bit too handsy for public; do you mind bailing early?"

With a longing look at the stage, and a similar glance at Dean, Cas shrugs, sliding off the barstool and taking a long, tan trench coat from the back.

"Hey, you don't have to leave just because your friends are going, do you?" Dean asks, seeing his hopes for the night slipping through his fingers.

"They're my ride," Cas shrugs again as he starts to pull his coat on.

"I can give you a ride," Dean offers, putting a hand on the coat to keep him from donning it.

Cas blinks at Dean, and the hand on his coat which Dean pulls away as if it's been burned, then looks at his friends.

"It's up to you, Cas. We can stay another hour if you don't wanna leave yet," Charlie says, smacking Meg's groping hand away from her ass.

Licking his lips, Cas glances uncertainly between his friends, Dean, and the stage. "You two go ahead, I'll get home ok," he finally says, looking nervous but determined.

Meg wolf-whistles. "Didn't know you had it in ya, Data," she smirks, winking at Dean.

"Cas, you can't just let a stranger take you home," Charlie cautions as she throws Meg a half-hearted glare.

"Dean and I have been talking for hours," Cas counters.

"That doesn't mean you know him."

"Hey, I'm standing right here," Dean points out.

"C'mon, Chuck, Data's a big boy; he can make his own decisions. Let's go," Meg wheedles, trying unsuccessfully to tug Charlie toward the door.

"Meg." Charlie glares a warning and her girlfriend releases her arm with a pout and a stamp of her foot. "It's Dean, right? Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asks, nodding toward an empty spot where they shouldn't be overheard.

"What's up?" Dean asks once they're alone.

"Dean, Cas isn't..." she trails off as though trying to find the right way to put it.

"Gay?" Dean asks.

"It's not that. I'm not sure but I don't think he really has a preference. No, he's... goddess, I hate reducing a friend to a label."

"Then don't. I think what you're trying to say is he's a bit awkward and doesn't really get social interactions and you don't want me to take advantage of him, right?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Charlie smiles. "I just don't wanna see him get hurt. I mean, he comes off like he doesn't care, like he's all logical about everything, but... when he does feel things he feels them very strongly. We've been friends since seventh grade so I know him pretty well and... he likes you, I think more than you may realize. Normally he ignores strangers, and while I know he's hooked up with friends from time to time, I've never known him to do a bar hookup so..."

"Gimme your phone."

"What?"

"Your phone, let me see it." Dean takes the phone Charlie hands him with a suspicious look and puts in his digits and full name before handing it back. "There, now you can check on him if you get worried or bitch me out if I mess up, k?"

Charlie continues her wary glare, looking from Dean to the phone and back again, then pressing the dial button. Ringing comes from Dean's pocket and he pulls out his cell, showing her the display, which reads 'unknown caller' but lists her number below it. He enters the number into his phone's memory, labeling it 'Charlie Cas Friend'. 

"Not to sound like an overbearing big brother or anything, but, what are your intentions toward Cas?" Charlie asks.

"Whatever he wants them to be," Dean replies seriously.

"See, you don't get it. I'm not talking about you driving him home and getting invited in for coffee that turns out to be coffee and nothing else (though that could happen), I'm more worried about you two having a good time and then him wanting you to stay forever. What would you do then?"

Dean thinks, seriously considering the possibility. "I really can't say. I mean, I'm single, of course, so sure, I think I'd be up for dating, but there's no way I can say 'forever' when we've just met. That could wind up hurting him and in that case I'd wanna do what's best for him. But do we really need to plan that far ahead?"

"With Cas, yes. I've already helped him through two bad breakups and I can't see him hurt like that again. Like I said, he feels things more strongly than he should, both the good and the bad, and he already likes you."

"Charlie, I promise I'll be careful."

"If you two were gonna be this long we shoulda just said we'd stay" Meg pouts, slipping her arms around Charlie as she comes up behind, nosing the neckline of her shirt down to suck hard on her girlfriend's shoulder blade, drawing blood to pool and purple just under the skin.

"Meg, we were talking," Charlie protests, stifling a moan. Apparently her girlfriend knows what buttons to push.

"And we were waiting," Meg counters, nodding toward where Cas still sits at the bar. "Come on, babe, I wanna go. I wanna get you home, peel you outta your clothes and..." her voice gets too soft to hear as she stands on tip-toes to murmur into Charlie's ear.

Charlie's face turns a darker shade of red than her hair. "Gotta go," she squeaks, adding a serious, "Just be careful with Cas," as they leave, this time Charlie being the one dragging Meg to the door.

Heading back over to Cas, Dean reclaims his seat, laughing as he watches Meg catch up to Charlie and whatever she does makes her girlfriend let out a delighted squeal as the door closes behind them. "Those two always like that?"

"Pretty much," Cas replies with one of his little half-smiles.

"Would you think less of me if I said that's kinda hot?"

"Not when I happen to agree," Cas grins, eyes crinkling. "Sometimes I worry Meg isn't as invested in the relationship, but apparently Charlie knows how to keep her coming back for more."

"They seem pretty solid to me," Dean comments.

Shrugging, Cas goes back to his drink, surreptitiously sneaking glances at Dean, who's listening to the current singer do a not-quite-horrible rendition of 'Manic Monday' by the Bangles. "Castiel," he says out of the blue as the song ends and a new singer is called up.

"What?"

"My name. You asked earlier. It's short for Castiel."

"Oh. Castiel... it suits you; I like it."

"I don't. My parents are super-religious. Growing up, being named after an angel felt like a straight-jacket. Like I had to live up to their expectations."

"Hey, it's not like angels are always perfect; Lucifer was originally an angel, right? Besides, you have a voice like an angel and a body like a gift from god; why shouldn't you have a heavenly name to go with it?" Dean asks with a devilish grin.

Head tilted, Cas blinks at Dean. "...Are you hitting on me?" he asks, and Dean can tell he really isn't sure.

"Definitely," Dean replies, swallowing and licking his lips a bit nervously. "Is that ok?"

"You're very attractive," Cas says, as though that explains everything.

"Thank you, but that isn't an answer," Dean points out.

"It's ok, and I'm flattered. I just don't see why you're wasting your time hitting on me."

"Wasting my time? You just said you think I'm good-looking and Charlie seemed to think I had a shot. Besides, I thought we were hitting it off. Haven't you been having fun?"

"That's not what I meant," assures Cas, gesturing around at the other people in the bar. "What I meant was, you have your pick of the entire place, and there are plenty of other fairly attractive people here who probably don't have trouble with social interactions."

"Really?" Dean asks, tucking a finger under Cas's chin to bring his head up and around until they're staring eye to eye. "I don't see anyone here but you."

Breath hitching, Cas blinks at Dean, looking a bit lost. Before he has time to figure anything out, the dj calls him up to sing the last song of the night and he slides off his stool, walking up to the mic somewhat dazedly.

As the opening notes of 'Dust in the Wind' by Kansas start up Dean can only stare at Cas because he knows it's such a melancholy, beautiful song that's just perfect for his angelic voice and when Cas starts singing Dean is just mesmerized because the way he sings it, there's just this sad, aching, empty loneliness that lends Cas an ephemeral air. It's like he can almost see Cas fading and blowing away like dust in the wind and Dean brings a hand to his own cheek, feeling moisture there that can't be tears but must be because it can't be anything else and he just... he just...

"Dean? Are you okay?" Cas asks, sitting back on his stool as the dj says something about karaoke being over for the night like dust in the wind and the whole bar is clapping wildly.

"Yeah," he replies in a rough voice, then shakes himself and pushes what's left of his beer to the other side of the counter, "yeah, I'm fine. Wanna get outta here?" There's still an hour 'til the bar closes but after that song, Dean just wants to get Cas alone.

"Is 'get outta here' code for 'go have sex'?" Cas asks baldly.

"If you want it to be, sure," Dean grins, grabbing his leather jacket and slipping it on.

"That sounds good," replies Cas as Dean helps him into his long tan coat.

"Oh, it'll be better than good, believe me," Dean grins as they head out to the parking lot and he leads the way to an old, black Impala that's obviously well-kept and loved. He opens the passenger door for Cas, then goes around to the driver's side, patting the dash with a murmured "hey, Baby," as he slides behind the wheel. "Where to?" he asks, and Cas gives him directions. Fifteen minutes later they pull into the parking garage beside a high rise apartment building, car's engine rumbling loudly as it echoes through the structure. Several levels up Dean finally finds a spot big enough for the old car and pulls in, cutting the engine. Turning in the seat, he examines Cas in the faint orange glow of the parking garage lights. "We're here," he says quietly, hoping Cas had been serious about the 'go have sex' bit but not sure how to proceed.

"Yes," Cas replies, unbuckling his belt, getting out, and closing the door.

Dean stares at the empty seat for a moment, then jumps as he hears a tap on his window.

"Coming?" Cas asks, then walks away, not waiting for an answer.

After fumbling with his belt Dean races out of the car, wincing as he accidentally slams the door behind him, then jogs to catch up. They walk in silence through the garage, Dean following Cas down the stairs even though the elevator's right there. Across the street they reach the apartment building, Dean trailing a step behind Cas, who nods at the guard behind the desk as they pass. As they reach the elevators Dean slows, but Cas keeps walking so he jogs to catch back up, sighing under his breath as Cas goes through the door into the stairwell. Floor by floor they climb, zig-zagging up the stairway until Cas finally stops at the door on the 9th floor. By the time they reach the apartment at the end of the hall (near the elevators they didn't take), Dean's feet and legs are a bit sore, though he's always considered himself a fairly active, healthy person.

"Damn, Cas, do you take the stairs every day?" he asks as they take off their shoes in the entryway.

"Sorry, I don't care for elevators," Cas shrugs. "You could have taken the lift up though; I should have suggested it, sorry."

"Nah, it's cool. Good exercise, right?"

"It is," Cas says, then heads into the apartment. To the right is a kitchen with an island between it and the living room. On the left, the wall is interrupted by three doors, which Cas describes as they pass. "Office... bathroom... bedroom" he explains, opening the last door and stepping inside.

Following, Dean stops short at the sight that greets him. The bedside lamp is on and Cas has already removed his coat and suit jacket and is working the buttons on his shirt. "Cas?" Dean's voice cracks like a teenager trying to ask his crush to the junior prom.

Looking up from the buttons and finding Dean halted in the doorway Cas freezes, brows furrowing and blush dark enough to be seen even in the dim light staining his cheeks. "Didn't you want to have sex?" he asks, hurt creeping into his eyes, obviously afraid he's misread the situation.

"Of course I do!" Dean hurries to reassure Cas, crossing the room and putting his hands gently on his shoulders. "Just, we don't have to rush it, right?" he explains, sliding a hand up to cup Cas's cheek as he brushes their lips softly together.

Shivering at the light touches, Cas pins Dean with his bright blue gaze. "But I want you," he says bluntly, hands sliding hesitantly over Dean's waist, then gripping tightly and pulling him close to grind their hips together.

Groaning, Dean captures Cas's lips, tongue slipping past to delve into the moist cavern of his mouth, exploring, teasing, claiming. Though hesitant at first, Cas returns the kiss with growing confidence, hands sliding up Dean's sides then under his leather jacket, pushing it off his shoulders. Dean lets it slide off his arms then his hands are back on Cas, one kneading his ass as they grind together, the other tangling in his hair. "I want you too," he breathes huskily, "all night... since I first... laid eyes... on you," Dean continues, kissing his way across Cas's jaw and down his neck to nip and suck at his collar bone. Cas whimpers, trembling and Dean pulls back to meet his eyes. "Is this ok?" he asks, not sure how to interpret the reactions.

"I... think so?" 

"You don't sound too sure. Did you not like it?"

"No, I didn't dislike it, just... no one's ever done that to me before; I'm not sure if it felt good or just different. Do it again?"

"Sure," Dean smiles warmly, brushing their lips together again before kissing his way down Cas's neck 'til he finds the hollow between bone and muscle just below the jugular and begins sucking, pressing their bodies closer together, hands pulling Cas's shirt untucked then slipping under it to roam over his back. A subconscious moan from Cas sets Dean's blood aflame and he tongues, nips, and sucks at Cas's neck with mounting passion, forgetting he's waiting for a verdict on whether it's good or not, forgetting about hickeys and whether they're visible or not, and forgetting about whether he looks like a vampire in some ridiculous teen romance or not. 

"T-that's enough," Cas whimpers, trying to lean away from the continued attention but prevented by Dean's hands on his back.

"Sorry," Dean says, pulling back immediately and thumbing lightly over the hickey blooming under the skin. "Got carried away. If something doesn't feel good, tell me sooner, ok?"

"No, it did feel good, just... too much," mumbles Cas, blushing.

"Noted," Dean replies. "So in future, hickeys are ok, just not so long in one place?"

Cas nods, leaning in to nuzzle against Dean's neck though he doesn't do more than brush his cheek and lips over the warm flesh. Hands slip under Dean's tee to explore smooth, firm flesh, eliciting a groan. Fingers finding the buttons Cas hadn't gotten to, Dean finishes undoing them before sliding the shirt off his shoulders, tugging down until Cas reluctantly stops his exploration of Dean's chest long enough to let the shirt slip free of his arms. As soon as Cas is able his hands go to the hem of Dean's tee, yanking the shirt up and off in one quick motion before going back to exploration, this time an intense blue gaze following his fingers over the broad expanse of muscled, freckled flesh. Dean's fingers have their own expedition to tend to, lightly brushing over the cream of Cas's firm chest, stomach, hips, waist, shoulders, biceps, then tracing their way back to his chest, flicking a nail over each nipple and eliciting a gasp. "Ok?" he asks, and Cas nods, his gaze not leaving Dean's body as though he's entranced by what his fingers are doing. With a moan at the attention, Dean's hands make their way down to Cas's ass, massaging through his pants as he begins rocking his hips, rubbing their growing arousals together through cloth.

"More?" Cas breathes, somewhere between a request and a demand.

"Yeah," Dean rasps, voice husky with growing need. He goes to work unfastening the suit pants while Cas mirrors him, unbuttoning and unzipping Dean's jeans, freeing his cock. Dean has just started sliding Cas's pants down when Cas sinks to his knees, dragging jeans and boxers to the floor as he goes, reverent stare never leaving Dean's cock. Glancing up once for a nod of approval, he licks his lips then slowly moves in, circling his tongue around the tip before sliding his mouth over the length, tongue pressing firmly down the underside, not stopping 'til he reaches the base. As Cas swallows around him then begins to move, Dean moans, a hand resting in dark, wavy hair, the other on Cas's shoulder. "Oh fuck, Cas, that's so damn good" he groans, struggling not to thrust as Cas picks up speed, tonguing the underside of Dean's cock firmly with every bob of his head. "Cas, that... if you keep doing that I'm gonna come." Instead of deterring him, Dean's warning spurs Cas on, humming approval as he continues to fuck his mouth on Dean's cock, skilled tongue working tirelessly. Almost without warning orgasm hits and Dean tries to pull back as he cries out but Cas doesn't let him, hands gripping Dean's ass to hold him firmly in place as he swallows, drinking up every drop of release as Dean whimpers. Finally, as the last of the aftershocks are fading, Cas pulls back, sitting on his heels and licking his lips as he looks up at Dean with half-lidded eyes.

"Holy fuck," Dean breathes as he helps Cas up, pushing his pants the rest of the way off in the process.

"Was that okay?" Cas asks, blushing.

"Ok? Fuck, Cas, that was amazing," Dean assures, then leans in for a kiss, but Cas pulls back out of reach.

"Sorry, I just... I should go brush my teeth," he mumbles.

"That's fine, but if you don't like the taste, why didn't you let me pull out?"

"I do like the taste, I just didn't think you would want-"

Dean cuts him off with a kiss, showing that he does, in fact, want and when Cas moans Dean's tongue invades, thrusting in and out as he backs Cas toward the bed, lowering him onto the mattress when they hit the edge, without breaking the kiss. Scooting them more squarely on the bed, Dean trails light kisses to Cas's ear as he traces a finger down his neck, chest, stomach, and thigh before lightly brushing over his erection, drawing forth a gasp. "Tell me what you want," Dean murmurs as he nuzzles behind his ear.

"I don't know," Cas whimpers, "I just want you."

Pushing himself up onto his hands, Dean looks down into the deep pools of Cas's eyes. "My hand? My mouth? My dick? My ass? How do you want me to make you come?" he asks huskily.

"I don't... inside. I want to feel you moving inside me."

"That can be arranged," Dean grins. "Lube? Condom?"

"Drawer," Cas pants, nodding toward the nightstand.

Still teasing a finger lightly over Cas's cock, Dean opens the indicated drawer and digs around 'til he finds a tube and string of condoms. He tears one off and tosses the rest onto the nightstand then sets it and the lube on the bed. Grinning, he kneels between Cas's legs, holding his gaze as he leans down and flicks a tongue over the tip of his cock. 

Mesmerized, Cas watches as Dean teases his cock with his tongue, moans escaping unnoticed from his lips and when the cap of the lube is flipped open with an audible click Cas whimpers, ass wriggling in anticipation, begging to be filled. And then Dean is sliding a lubed finger into tight warmth, teasing him open. "Yes, more," Cas pleads, and is rewarded with a second slicked finger joining the first, scissoring, sliding slowly in and out. "Hurry, Dean, I want you inside," Cas whimpers.

"Not yet, just a little longer," Dean says as he adds a third finger and sucks his way down the underside of Cas's cock. Crying out in pleasure, Cas begins arching his hips down, trying to fuck himself on Dean's fingers. "So impatient," Dean chides, breath breezing over the wet trail he left down Cas's hard length, sending a tremor through the body beneath him. As he withdraws his fingers, Cas whimpers, begging as Dean puts the condom on and uses the remaining lube on his fingers to slick himself down with firm strokes that bring him back to full erection even though he came not that long ago. Almost as an afterthought, he gets a bit more lube and rubs it over Cas's cock too. Then he guides himself to the entrance and pauses, pushing gently against the taut rim without entering just to hear more of that husky voice begging for him. When Cas looks on the verge of tears Dean relents, pushing in all the way in one firm stroke then leaning down to kiss Cas, swallowing his gasp of surprise and subsequent whimpers. "Ok?" he asks, cupping a hand over his cheek and thumbing moisture from the corner of Cas's eye. Cas nods. "You sure?" Cas licks his lips and rocks down onto Dean's cock, just a small movement, gauging the feel. He nods again. "Then wrap your legs around my waist," Dean instructs as he slides his hands under Cas's back. As strong legs wrap around him Dean lifts, sitting back on his heels and pulling Cas into his lap. "I'm going to start moving," he warns, though he waits for a slight nod before doing so. Nuzzling into Cas's neck he hugs him closer and begins thrusting, slow at first but gaining speed as the friction of Cas's lubed cock being rubbed between their stomachs with each thrust has him crying out for more. Dean complies, driving deep and hard into the tight warmth, shudders chasing through Cas's body as each stroke hits the prostate. 

"Yes, yes, Dean, you... that... so good!" Cas cries, and then he's coming, shuddering hard as the slick between their stomachs gets wetter. 

A few more thrusts into the quivering tightness brings Dean over the edge too, Cas's name ripped from his throat, a prayer or a curse or maybe both and he lowers Cas gently to the bed, kissing him languidly as the tremors slow then still. When Cas's knee nudges his side pointedly Dean sighs, reluctantly pulling out to remove and tie off the condom. He starts to look around the room and Cas points to the corner where the wastebasket sits. Rubbery as his arms are, he still manages to make the basket, then grabs some tissues from the box on the nightstand and cleans their stomachs and the lube from Cas's ass. The tissues somehow manage to make it into the basket too, then Dean tugs the blankets from under Cas, lays beside him and pulls the covers up over them both. Cas looks at him quizzically and Dean shrugs. "Just for a few minutes," he says, gathering Cas against his chest and dropping a light kiss on his hair. "Did you like it?" he murmurs, rubbing lightly across his shoulders. The silence stretches and Dean starts to worry. It's not like Cas didn't come, because he did; hard. But maybe he shoulda gone slower on the entry, or maybe Cas is regretting the hickeys, or maybe Cas would rather have rode him so he could control-

"I liked it. I liked it very much." Cas rasps against Dean's chest, putting his worries to rest.

Dean hugs him tighter, nuzzling a cheek against his hair. "Good," Dean smiles as his hand continues to roam lightly over Cas's back. After a while he sighs. "I should probably get going."

"You don't have to. Do you?"

"Not if you'd rather I stay."

"Stay. Please." Cas settles more comfortably against Dean.

"Ok." Dean isn't used to sharing a bed but he's sated and sleepy and as Cas's breath slows and evens out Dean's own breathing matches, almost subconsciously, easing him into sleep so subtly he doesn't even realize when he slips from languid touches into slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> the idea for this popped into my head at 2am and it just flowed; wound up finishing in 2 days :D very fast for me. still don't have beta testers, just proofed a couple more times myself, so please, if I missed any mistakes let me know; corrections, comments, suggestions always welcome and encouraged :D also, I was lost in world of warcraft and/or depression during the whole hashtag revolution so I'm horrible at tags. so if you've any advice on tags I'd welcome it :D
> 
> if anyone's wondering, the label Charlie doesn't want to use is autistic; it tends to conjure up images of Rainman or someone similar but it's a very wide spectrum with very different ways of presenting and people shouldn't be defined by a label anyway. Cas is Cas. if someone wants to know more about him, they should get to know him, in Charlie's opinion. I may write a follow-up to this fic at some point, but for now I'm calling it complete :D


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